


Form and Splendor

by Quarra



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Mistletoe, Non-Explicit Sex, Other, Romance, non-human sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:20:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21758209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quarra/pseuds/Quarra
Summary: The holidays have come around and for the first time ever, Aziraphale and Crowley don’t have to work. With a little encouragement from Anathema, Crowley takes Aziraphale on a date. It ends far better than he could have hoped.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Background Anathema/Newt
Comments: 2
Kudos: 124





	Form and Splendor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissPJ (MissyPJ)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissyPJ/gifts).



> This fic is for my holiday gift exchange! Happy Holidays Helene!
> 
> A huge thanks to my beta reader [Dira Sudis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsudis/pseuds/Dira%20Sudis)!!! You rock!!

“Are you two doing something special for the holidays?” Anathema asked at her regular weekly lunch date with Crowley. 

After Tadfield, both Crowley and Aziraphale had separately made arrangements with Anathema to stay in touch. _As a contingency_ , Crowley had said. _To exchange information_ , Aziraphale had said. 

Either way, Anathema found that she enjoyed the company, and she didn’t mind visitors to Jasmine Cottage. Newt often made himself scarce during these little interludes. Said that the celestials gave him the collywobbles. 

She had to wonder if the two of them knew that she was regularly meeting both of them. 

When Anathema met up with Aziraphale, they usually ended up just looking at books and discussing prophesy until dawn. Crowley’s lunches were a little more informal, and often significantly shorter.

“Holidays?” Crowley frowned at her and leaned his head back to look at her through the bottom of the dark lenses of his sunglasses. “What do you mean? Head offices haven’t sent either of us any work at all, I told you that.”

“No, no, I mean…” Anathema shook her head and pulled a strand of her thick, dark hair back. “I mean celebrating. Is that a thing you two do?” 

Crowley’s face drew back into a somewhat surprised grimace. He stared off into the distance behind Anathema and frowned.

“Hmmm. Now that I think about it, we’re usually working. Christmas and Hanukkah are a popular time for miracles _and_ temptations. Honestly, we’ll probably do a little just out of habit. But…” He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “I donno, really.”

Anathema sipped her tea and held back a smile. “You could take him out. Lots of fancy places do special holiday meals. And there’s mistletoe.”

“Mistletoe? To eat?” Crowley made a face.

“No, for kissing under,” Anathema said. The _duh_ was implied. 

She knew that Crowley and Aziraphale were together. For certain definitions of ‘together’. 

And, well. Certain subjects came up during lunches sometimes. Especially if they were day drinking. She tried not to make it a habit, but everyone once in a while the temptation was too much to resist. Crowley was a chatty drunk, and Anathema had heard a lot more than she ever wanted to about a variety of topics. 

So she also knew that Crowley had been pining for something a little more physical with Aziraphale for several hundred years. Maybe thousands. He would never dream of pushing the angel into something he didn’t want, though. That much was obvious.

It was also clear to her that Aziraphale would welcome the invitation should Crowley offer it. Maybe he wouldn’t have before, but something had change for him recently. He was definitely interested. But something was still holding him back. 

While Anathema wasn’t really a professional descendant anymore, she couldn’t help the ingrained habit of meddling.

“Kissing, huh,” Crowley mused. 

Anathema smiled as she poured him a warm up for his tea.

\--

“Angel, I don’t know what you’re worried about,” Crowley said with a mix of irritation and encouragement. “We’ve been around for six _thousand_ years. There’s nothing we haven’t seen humans do with their bodies.”

Aziraphale perched nervously on the edge of Crowley’s bed, and his fingers tapped feather light against his knees. 

The end of the world had already happened. Or rather, it hadn’t happened. Adam had gone back to Tadfield, the horsepersons had scattered again, and both Above and Below were keeping very quiet on the whole affair. 

In the midst of all of that, Aziraphale had finally realized what Crowley had known all along. It was the two of them with humanity, against everyone else. And now, they didn’t have to worry about their respective home offices bothering them either. They were both very firmly off limits. 

That meant that they could _fraternize_ however much they liked.

Crowley had, of course, taken precautious to prevent future meddling from either side. Many, many precautious as it turned out. But that was just part of his nature. He’d waited so long for this, so long to have Aziraphale all to himself, and now the two of them had the whole world to enjoy. Crowley wasn’t about to jeopardize that. 

And now for the first time ever, they both had the holiday season off. 

Everything had been planned perfectly. 

They had dinner at the Ritz, and then saw a show afterwards. Something about some rich miser being haunted by ghosts. The theater served alcohol, so they got nicely buzzed while enjoying the play. Crowley couldn’t say if it was good or not. He’d been too busy watching Aziraphale’s transparent enjoyment. 

Then they’d staggered back to Crowley’s flat, where he had a special, absolutely _perfect_ bundle of mistletoe hanging over the doorway. 

The moment was magic. As soon as they walked in, Aziraphale had looked up in surprise at the fresh leaves and berries, still quivering in terror from a thorough motivational talk from Crowley earlier. Then he did a quick double take, obviously realizing the custom the little plant represented.

Crowley moved slowly. Slow enough that his angel could back away if he wanted. But Aziraphale stayed in place. Eyes wide and mouth curled into a nervous half smile, but he _stayed_. 

That was their first kiss. Time stopped. Possibly literally, though Crowley wasn’t keeping track. There was just the soft, plush feel of Aziraphale’s lips against his and the sensation of their spirits just barely touching.

It was a better heaven than he’d ever been to. 

By mutual silent agreement, they’d headed to Crowley’s bedroom after that. The air was heavy between them and they couldn’t part long enough to walk properly. But they made it to the bed.

Then things got awkward again. Aziraphale pulled back and Crowley, not knowing what to do, let him go.

“I’m sorry my dear, it’s. It’s not that I want to stop, I don’t! I’m just…” Aziraphale swallowed and looked down at the floor.

“Talk to me, angel,” Crowley said quietly as he trailed a finger down Aziraphale’s jaw. “I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong,” Aziraphale hastened to assure him. The hand he laid on Crowley’s knee did just as much to buoy Crowley’s spirits as anything else. 

“Nothing is wrong,” Aziraphale said again, this time more firmly. “I’d just like.” He took a breath.

“Spit it out, angel,” Crowley said with fond irritation. 

“I want us to, to join while we’re in our ethereal forms,” Aziraphale looked Crowley right in the eye, as if he could transmit his earnestness through that look alone. “These corporations are, well, they are serviceable, and we could definitely make an effort, I suppose. But.” Now it was Aziraphale’s turn to lovingly brush his thumb across Crowley’s jaw. “But I’d like us to be, well, _us_ when we do this.” 

Crowley immediately grasped the problem.

Ethereal, or occult forms as the case may be, weren’t equipped for intercourse. For most beings, they looked nothing like humans at all, and God certainly didn’t make them with reproduction in mind. 

She did make them for joy, though. For love and connection and caring. Angels were, at least. Demons on the other hand...

“Angel, I’m…I’m not what I once was. I don’t know if I can---” Crowley stuttered a little.

But Aziraphale just shook his head. “It’s not you I’m worried about, dear. It’s both of us, together. And, well,” he looked down, shamefaced, “I’m not exactly a beautiful specimen.”

“Who said that?” Crowley hissed, suddenly leaning in closer. “Who said that you’re anything less than perfect? _I’ll kill them_.”

Aziraphale petted Crowley’s arm soothingly. “It was nothing, my dear. It just got me thinking that it’s been a rather long time since I’d been anything like the soldier I used to be. My ethereal form has...changed over the millennia.” 

“You’ll be beautiful, angel. You couldn’t be anything but.” Crowley leaned in to hold Aziraphale close. 

“I don’t want to hurt you. And I don’t want you to think less of me.” The tone was quiet, pleading almost, but Crowley could tell that Aziraphale’s resolve was getting worn down. 

“You won’t. We could never hurt each other. We’re on our side, remember?”

That might have been a lie. Crowley couldn’t care less. It would be worth it.

Crowley brushed their lips together. Aziraphale leaned in, forcing the kiss deeper. He tasted sweet like the candy he’d eaten during the show and smelled like every wonderful human thing in the world; soft and glorious. Crowley couldn’t get enough. 

There was a mad scramble of limbs to try and get their jackets and shirts off, and soon enough the garments were just miracled away. The heat between them grew even more, and a delicious rosey blush dusted Aziraphale’s cheeks and down his chest. Crowley made it his mission to kiss and lick every spot he could.

“You sure you don’t want to give these corporations a spin? Would be easy enough to make a little effort for the event,” Crowley hummed into the heat of Aziraphale’s throat. 

“Ah!” Aziraphale squirmed up into Crowley’s embrace and let out the most delightful little breath. “That, that might be worth arranging. But for right now…”

“Yesss,” Crowley hissed encouragingly. “Show me, angel. Show me how beautiful you are.”

It might actually burn him to look, but Crowley would take another drive down into a pit of boiling sulfur before he turned his eyes away. 

Little by little, Aziraphale’s heavenly form began to shine through his human body. It was a delicate task to manifest one’s true form without discorporating, but both Crowley and Aziraphale were well practiced at it. Crowley had no fear that Aziraphale wouldn’t be able to manage it. 

One shining ray at a time, light filled the austere bedroom. First it was a normal, physical light; the glow of tangential radiance. Then _Light_ flowed out of Aziraphale’s form, glowing brighter and brighter until Crowley’s eyes watered. Wings unfolded and filled up the room with their stunning beauty, and the corporation that once housed Aziraphale’s essence was obscured by spinning, glowing wheels of pure brilliance.

Wheels within wheels, all turning in on themselves, twisting in a pattern as simple as a sunrise and as complicated as the physics of the world. Eyes lined every part of Aziraphale’s form, each one open wide and startlingly blue. 

So much holyness should have burned. Crowley should be in agony. 

All he felt was awe. 

Because instead of the burning that he expected, instead of the pain of God’s rejection all over again, Aziraphale’s form poured out pure _love_. 

And it was all directed towards _him_.

“Angel,” Crowley whispered.

“ _Crowley, my dearest_ ,” Aziraphales voice whispered through the world and into Crowley’s core. “ _Show me, please._ ”

“I couldn’t possibly be as beautiful as you,” Crowley said, his voice gone hoarse. 

He began revealing himself anyways. He wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ deny his angel anything.

Darkness flowed out, equal and opposite to Aziraphale’s grace. Feathers and scales rippled around and over him. He was as black as the deepest night and crowned with a wild flare of red energy; the destroyed remnants of his halo. 

There was no human analog to how different they were from each other. Where Aziraphale was warm and radiant, Crowley was cold and ravenous. Where one was all shining, opulent splendor, the other was hard edges and slippery scales.

To Crowley’s immense surprise, their forms didn’t repel each other. 

In fact, they were shockingly similar in some ways. Their energies synced up with little resistance, flowing together as if they’d always been made to. Where one pushed, the other gave way, back and forth, endless and perfect. 

Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s laughter.

“ _Ineffable_ ,” Aziraphale whispered.

Crowley’s answering hiss was at least part rueful acknowledgement. 

Then they were both lost to the pleasure of sharing themselves with each other. Through Aziraphale’s senses, Crowley could feel all the knowledge of the world at his fingertips. He could sense the love that they projected to each other and how all-encompassing it was. 

Crowley shared himself, too. As they flowed in and out of each other, touching and merging in the most intimate of ways, Crowley let Aziraphale feel all of his passion. He showed his endless curiosity and his delight in creation. 

Where Aziraphale gave Crowley the world, Crowley gave Aziraphale the stars. 

Their spirits mingled, somehow managing to stay themselves while sharing all that they were at the same time. 

It couldn’t last for too long. Not without more undesirable consequences than they both wanted to deal with, not the least of which was the possibility that Heaven or Hell might take notice. 

But they enjoyed it while they could, and when they’d had as much as they could take of each other, they settled back into their human bodies.

They came back to themselves with their corporations naked and entwined, breathlessly laughing. Crowley’s hair was an absolute mess, and he felt sweaty and exhausted; this only made him wrap himself around Aziraphale’s warm body even more. Aziraphale was panting in Crowley’s ear and his warm hand stroked down Crowley’s back. 

The last few months had been the best of Crowley’s very long life, but this moment took the cake. 

“I love you, my dearest Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered.

“I love you, too, angel,” Crowley rumbled back.

Crowley had never been happier.

\---

“So? How did it go?!” Anathema prodded Crowley with one finger.

The demon had showed up to their regular lunch date with a picnic basket full of mimosas and had insisted that they start drinking right away. 

He also had the silliest, goofiest smile on his face that Anathema had ever seen, and walked like bones were a distant memory at best. 

It was ridiculously obvious that the Crowley and Aziraphale had finally managed to pull themselves together. After months of listening to them both quietly pine, Anathema wanted details. 

“Turns out that ‘Ziraphale was nervous about his angelic form and my demonic one,” Crowley said with a shrug. “Self-conscious, I suppose, and a little worried about us blowing each other up by accident.”

Anathema waited.

Crowley drained his bottle and got himself a refill, humming happily the whole time.

“And?!” Anathema prodded him again when no more explanation was forthcoming. “Obviously you’re still walking around, but was it, I don’t know, alright? Did everything go ok?”

“Yeah, actually.” Crowley seemed pleasantly astounded by this. He shrugged. “Turns out that ‘Zirapahel’s angelic form is a series of hoops, and I’m a snake. So.”

He touched the tips of his fingers to his thumb, making a hollow circle with one hand, and then he pointed the index finger of his other hand towards the hole. Crowley then worked his finger in and out of that hole a couple of times.

Anathema’s face burned with blushes and she covered her mouth with one hand.

Crowley shrugged again. “Worked out pretty well, all things considered.”

He preened and took another drink. 

\--The End.


End file.
